Found
by tallgirl20
Summary: Most people assumed that Sam was the one who found her in the forest that night. He was the one who carried her out of the woods after all. Bella, she knew differently. It was a different boy who got to her first. His name was Paul. An imprint story written in drabbles. M to be safe.
1. Prologue

Well, I've pretty much lost my old writing spark. It still seems small and weak, so this is my get my feet wet again story. Hopefully, getting this out of my system will jump start my mojo again. I really do want to finish my other stories. I've already written a Twilight story or two. If you liked those, you may want to be warned. This is a total wolf pack-oriented story. Cullen family doesn't get much love at all. Be forewarned and keep flames to a minimum, okay?

Summery - Most people assumed that Sam was the one who found her that night in the forest. He was the one who carried her out of the woods after all. Bella, she knew differently. It was a different boy who got to her first. Later, she found out his name was Paul. Imprint story written in drabbles. M to be safe.

Disclaimer- Eh? What do you mean I don't own Twilight? But, I'm Stephanie! Eh? I'm not? So, I'm not the rich and famous owner of Twilight? Oh... poop!

* * *

"Look, Sam, I really do appreciate you bringing Bella back to me, but I don't know about this…" Charlie's frustrated voice floated up through the cracks to her.

A deeper voice answered him. Bella was reminded of very hot hands. Why was that?

"Charlie, Paul feels responsible for her. He went ballistic when he saw how that _Cullen_ left her. Just let him stay for a little while. Maybe he can help."

Why did this deep voice (hot hands) – no, Sam, Sam was his name…. Why did Sam spit out the C- _no, no, no, no, don't say it! – _Why did Sam spit out _their _name? Didn't he know how amazing _they _were? Bella felt her lips trembling. _They were certainly far better than her. _After all, she was _nothing!_ Her hitching breaths turned into true sobs for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Damn it." Charlie was talking again. What was he saying? Why did it even matter? "I can't get her to stop crying. She barely eats anything."

"Looks like you've got nothing to lose. Just a couple of hours. See if he can get her to eat. If you don't like it, Paul will leave. Just give the guy a chance. Nothing else has seemed to work. Maybe he can. He was there, you know?"

For what seemed like an eternity, Bella drifted with no sound aside from her own hitched breathing. It was horrible to be alone, but Charlie didn't need to be bothered with her. _He didn't want her either! _Sobs came harder and tears fell faster.

"Okay. One hour."

"Done."

* * *

"You hungry?" Bella blinked and turned her confused, red-rimmed eyes to the massive man standing in her bedroom door. His eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned as she just stared at him. He looked familiar. Why was that? Something tugged at the fog surrounding her brain. He was important-familiar.

"Hey, you okay?" Startled, Bella look straight into a pair of far-too-close eyes. She should have been concerned, instead seeing his face so close seemed to tug harder at her memory. He was important!

"Who'r you?" She half mumbled, half accused. Why had Charlie let this unknown (_no, no, he is familiar, I know him_) person in her room. He look tired.

"Paul. My name's Paul." Now that she was concentrating more, Paul sounded stressed too. "You're Isabella Swan."

"Yes, that's my name." Somehow she just couldn't bring herself to correct him. She didn't want to be called Bella right then. _That's what _HE_ called her!_

With monumental effort, Bella pulled herself back to the present. Paul looked a little awkward. _(How long had she been out this time?)_ Actually he looked really awkward. He was massive. Had she mentioned that before? He was beyond just tall, and all those muscles. He was sitting on her floor crouched down to be face to face to her. That just looked uncomfortable. He didn't really look like he belonged sitting next to the pink blown glass dolphin Renee had bought her from Florida. Why on earth was this massive Native American (did she forget to mention his tan, tan, tan skin?) doing in her room?

His lips lifted in one corner. Had she said that out loud?

"I guess I am tan next to a pale face like you, huh?" He grinned at her, and Bella didn't know what to do. She tried to smile back. It turned into a grimace instead.

He winced and sighed. She would be uncomfortable if she was sitting like that too. Why on earth was he still here?

"I heard that you weren't doing-"he looked at her and backpedaled, "well, I just wanted to come help out. Heard you weren't eating right."

She frowned deeply at him. "I'm not hungry. Go away."

He got up from his hunched over position, and Bella was right. He was way too tall to be right. He walked towards the door. He was leaving! It didn't make her feel better that he had decided to leave just like that. He didn't put up a fight.. He wasn't even going to try to stay- stay with her. He was just li-

"I'm going to heat up some soup. When I get back, you are going to eat it." His voice sounded awfully sure of itself. Startled, she looked up from her mound of pillows to see him standing in her door looking back at her. She didn't understand the look that passed over his face. "I didn't find you that night just too watch you starve yourself."

_Ah! _She remembered him! Those eyes! He was the one who chased that bear away. He had found her in the forest first. She remembered his trembling hands on her face, worried eyes, and angry words. But she couldn't figure out why he was still around. Why would he still be wasting his time on her? After all, she was worthless...

* * *

I hope to update this at least once a week. It won't be nearly as intricate as my previous stories (chapters much shorter too), probably more a look at characters than a plot filled prose. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this look at a very different Paul/Bella story. Most people start them off when Bella confronts the pack about Jacob, but it always struck me that Paul was part of the pack when Bella was found in the woods. Surely, it is possible he looked at her eyes during the rescue.


	2. Man to Man-ish

Below is chapter two. Two in one day? Craziness! It has been a very long time since a read the original Twilight books. Most character background I got from the Twilight Wiki page to refresh me. Paul's p.o.v.

Disclaimer: *scuttles towards the platform* Hello, my name is (kind of) Tallgirl20. I do not own Twilight. This is my first time at a We Don't Own Twilight (W DOT) support group. And I am only here because those D*** lawyers-! *yanked off the stage by men in suits* You won't win!

* * *

What the hell was he doing here? He hunched back against the wall outside Isabella's room trying to calm down. It was just so damn hard. His dark eyes glared at his shaking hands. Why did this have to happen to him? And to _her!_ Leach lover, vampire fucker, betrayer-

Paul grit his teeth. It hurt bone deep to even think things like that about her. It should have been so easy to blame her, but honestly imprinting was far from easy. It had taken about a week to even get through the mess that was his emotions/actions/thoughts concerning Isabella's past with the Cullen Coven. He knew she had been involved with them in an abstract sense but hadn't had really any contact with the female Swan before finding her in the forest. Honestly, he had never expected too. Being suddenly connected to her entire being/life/existence caught him completely flat footed.

After a while of blaming her and then being devastated for thinking badly of her in the first place, Paul deflected. If it wasn't her fault (which it couldn't be for his own sanity's sake), it had to be _their_ fault. The Cullen Coven. There, perfect. He could just blame the vampires. Which really wasn't that far off the mark. Sam had made sure he and Jared were up to date on vampire traits. Know your enemy and all that. With all their undead perks, they were nearly addicting to normal humans. _She _hadn't really stood a chance of resisting them once Edward Cullen took an interest in her. Paul hated Edward for that.

Now though, they were gone. In their wake lay a devastated Isabella Swan. Daughter of the chief of police. Newest imprint to the Pack.

Damn it. Why did she have to be _his_ daughter? He didn't want to think about how many times Charlie had caught him messing around over the years. Girls, drinking, disorderly conduct… Shit. He was so screwed. At least he hadn't touched any of that crap (well, except the girls, a guy had urges) since he phased.

He forcibly (but not too hard, didn't want to dent something) pushed himself away from the wall and moved towards the stairs. He shifted uncomfortably in one of his only intact shirts. The thing had to be at least a size too small (more like three, but who was counting?). He wished he could rip it off (no, take it off, couldn't afford to buy a replacement), but he was trying to be on his best behavior.

Charlie's eyes flicked over to him immediately as he moved down the stairs. He didn't like the wary dislike in the Chief's eyes, but really who could blame him? Paul knew exactly how much of a screw up he'd been for the majority of his life.

"Do you have soup on hand?" Paul asked. By the look (grimace) on his face, Charlie hadn't remembered.

"She would need something easy to eat, right? Dang it." Charlie's eyes slid up to the second floor. Guilt was an easy emotion to read. "I'll go…" Charlie's voice trailed off as he turned back to look at Paul. The shifter made a valiant effort to keep from shaking. Charlie wasn't going to leave him alone in the house with his daughter. He wasn't trusted with his own imprint. _I deserve it. I deserve it. Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Don't deserve his trust yet. Not to him. _Paul would just have to convince the Chief he had changed… kind of. Well, he was trying.

"I brought some chicken soup." He pretty much blurted out. God, he was such an idiot. Charlie looked utterly bewildered. Not that Paul blamed him, what idiot carried canned soup around? _How about nutcase imprints who can't stop worrying about their mate? _

"You do" Paul wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement. Either way, Charlie probably thought he was a freak.

"Yeah," Paul shifted uncomfortably. "I just thought, you know. I didn't know if you had-" He cut off abruptly when he realized he was rambling. _God, damn it!_ He was doing a spectacular job of winning Charlie to The Cause.

There was another stilted silence with only the baseball game interrupting before Paul lost his courage. "I'm just going to heat it up for her." He escaped to the kitchen where he had sat his fanny pack (which he had found in a discount store. It worked better than the piece of string the others guys used to tie their clothes with, _so shut up Jared_). Unzipping the pouch, he took out the thankfully not bent can of soup and set about heating it up.

He tried not to think about anything as he waited. Thinking led to Isabella, which brought the only memories he had of her to the surface. _Broken in the woods, devastated in her bed, frostbitten, heartbroken, empty, crying, unconscious._ He threw his head back, closed his eyes, and took deep breaths through his nose. His hands were shaking violently at his sides. He jammed the under his armpits to keep the shaking to a minimum. Damn the Cullens! He wanted to rip those bloodsuckers to pieces! He gritted his teeth trying to keep it together. _Don't think about it. Be calm. Can't let Charlie see you like this. Be calm. Deep breath. _

He forced out a breath trying to expel his angry thoughts. He couldn't do that now. Later, he could run. Maybe kill a bear (nobody would miss it, if went far enough away). Get the aggression out of his system for a while. Now he needed calm and focus.

He had a mate to feed after all. That, and a Chief of Police to impress. _Fuck. _He was screwed.

* * *

This seems like a slightly awkward place to stop, but honestly this story is about awkward phases of life. I hope I made Paul convincing. I have never been a teenage boy, let alone a teenage boy who turns into a wolf when I get mad… Hope you like him. He has a bit of a potty mouth. I think he's pretty adorable in a bad-boy-trying-to-do-right way. I also wanted in impress that Paul in this story has no good memories of Bella. He has only ever seen her post Edward which really isn't pretty...

Reviews are always nice. I love to hear what you think about this twist on Paul and Bella.

Tg out.


	3. The Here and Now-ish

Tg here with you weekend update. Hope you like this chapter. It took me a long while to figure out how I wanted this chapter to flow. See you at the bottom!

Disclaimer - I must disclaim that I do not own Twilight per site regulations. That doesn't mean I have to believe it! I know the truth! I am -gah!-

* * *

Bella blinked slowly trying to focus on the situation at hand. She was downstairs. On the couch. There was a TV tray on her lap…. with hot soup (and a spoon). What, what was going on?

The couch dipped beside her, and Bella turned her head to see the becoming-more-familiar-every-moment face of Paul (what was his last name?). She shivered. It was cold out here. She wanted to go back upstairs. She wanted to be buried under her sheets/comforters/blankets. She put her hands down on the couch to get up (was she forgetting something?), when very hot hands kept her back.

Disgruntled, Bella turned towards the- _hot hands, shaking voice, big bear! Cold, not-cold. Ed-HIM. Gone. He's GONE!_

"Bella!" She twitched. _HE_ called her that. _No. NO. NO! Don't think. Don't think. DON'T-_

"Bells!" _–THIN- Charlie. Charlie. _Charlie.

"Charlie?" Her voice was thin in her ears, but Bella tried to push herself back to the present and away from _HIM_.

"That's right, Bells. I'm right here." She swung her eyes around to face Charlie _(Dad). _She didn't have to look far. He was sitting right in front of her, but his face looked so scared and unsure. He shouldn't look like that!

Her eyes were too wide as she tried to get away from the flashbacks_(HIM)_. She was trembling. She wanted to be warm again. "Cold." She was having trouble thinking straight. Why was she so useless? Why couldn't she just be normal? Was that why _h-he_ left?

She saw the determination flare in Charlie's _(her Dad's) _eyes before she was encased in warm, _soft _hands and pressed against his solid chest. "I've got you, Bells. I got you, Baby."

Her breaths came out in shaking huffs as her jerking limps wrapped around his back. Her lips trembled as her eyes watered. _She was such a bother._ Still, she couldn't bring herself to let go of Ch-_her father's _warmth. He was still here. He hadn't left. _God, _she was so glad he hadn't left her alone.

Something shifted out of the corner of her eye and drew her attention. Everything was blurry with her tears, but she wanted to know what was in her house. She blinked extra hard and a far too big teenager came into view.

Vaguely, Bella recognized that _Paul_ looked horrible. His face was drawn, and his eyes terrified/angry(?). His massive hands were tucked under his arms with such force she could see the tendons in his shaking arms straining. Why was he here? He had mentioned it earlier, she thought…

"Cha-Dad?" She whispered, her eyes still trained on Paul _(what is his last name?)._

"Yeah, Bells?" His horse voice answered.

She took a deep breath and pushed away from C-_her Dad's_ shoulders. He let her pull back with little resistance. "What am I doin-I-I mean, why am I downstairs?"

"You don't remember?" _Her dad _asked with a guarded face.

"I-" she stammered not liking how strange she was at the moment. She should remember things like this. What was wrong with her? Frantic eyes searched the room before eyeing the bowl of no longer hot soup- _"My Dad never lets me eat in my room."_

Memories clicked back into place. Her eyes swiveled back to _Paul. _"You made me soup." She frowned. "But you wouldn't let me eat in my room." She accused with narrowing eyes. _This wouldn't have happened if he had just left me alone in my room! Char-DAD is worrying!_

Paul seemed to shrink several inches. "I just though you could eat with us? You know, out of your room, and with other people. And, well, my Dad never let me eat in my room. Said family ate together…" He trailed off with an uncertain air that didn't seem to fit him. "Are you hungry?"

"What?"

"You've got to be hungry, right?" His eyes were flicking from her to her father with something near desperateness inside them.

She opened her mouth to tell him exactly how _not hungry_ she was when her stomach disagreed – loudly. Bella blushed faintly as Paul grinned. "Ha! I'll go get you another bowl." He dashed back to the kitchen leaving a very wrong footed Bella loosely held in her dad's arms.

She looked her dad with bewildered eyes. "Why is he here?"

Charlie huffed and rubbed a hand down his face. "He wanted to help out."

She snorted. "Some help." The words slipped passed her lips in a grumble as she turned back towards the kitchen. She was hungry, after all.

If she had waited, she would have seen the speculative look on her father's face.

* * *

It seemed like moments later not only was she eating hot soup, but also cocooned in several blankets which Paul had brought from her room for her. Which was kinda nice of him...

She had been so focused on trying to figure out why her father would agree to have Paul who she really didn't even _know_ help out that she hadn't really been paying attention to the TV, until Cha-_her dad _nearly cursed. Startled, she looked up from her nearly finished soup. Her eyes followed C-_her dad's _eyes to the television.

Two guys were facing the audience and talking about something-

"I can't believe he went for second on that play." The older man said with a shake of the head and a grin.

"He is fast, Jim, but not fast enough, it seems. Let's take another look!"

Suddenly the screen wasn't filled with two men. Bella's eyes widened as she realized exactly what Charlie was watching. _Baseball-_

_-crack-_

Her vision started to fade as the past roared to the front of her mind. _Pale skin. Sly grins. "There's a storm coming!" "Vampire baseball, Bella!" –BOOM-_

"He sure hit that far into right fiel- _"Edward's the fastest."_

Her eyes snapped shut as her hands flew to her ears trying to drown out the _noise. _A hot hand gently touched her arm. It was shaking _(or was it just her)_.

"Bella, are you o- _"Bella, watch this!" –BOOM- _

She screamed.

* * *

*sly grin* I've cut you off again! Don't worry too much. I hope to have another chapter out tomorrow. I really hope you like my Broken!Bella. Reviews are always appreciated.

Tg out


	4. Calm-ish after the Storm

Tg here! Wow! This chapter got away from me. I remember thinking, there is no way I can make this about 1,000 words! Now, holey (pun!) crap! Longest chapter yet. Most angst filled chapter yet! Beware!

Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter! That's right! Do. Not. Own. What do you mean that doesn't matter? This is a twilight story? Oh, well, I own that. What do you mean I don't own Twilight?! I thought we had gone over this…

* * *

"_Get out of my house!"_

Paul shook himself hard and deliberately smashed into a tree. The sight of the evergreen toppling to the ground did little to help him feel better. It had been a week since he had been thrown out of the Swan house by the Chief of Police. Not that Paul blamed the man. He would have thrown anyone who made his daughter scream like that out too.

He unsuccessfully tried to keep her keening screams away from his mind. Another tree met the force of a hyperemotional werewolf. The tree didn't stand a chance.

_God, damn it! I'll going to kill the fucker for this! _

He knew intimately what it felt like to hurt your imprint. Pack mind forced those emotions on him not even an hour after The Accident. Sam dealt with the agony of hurting what was to the Alpha precious beyond life itself. Paul, well, Paul had to deal with something altogether different.

Paul hadn't been the one to hurt Isabella (he had caught on quickly enough that calling her by _Bella_ messed her up worse than she already was). No, it had been his _fucking immortal_ _enemies_ who had messed his imprint up. He had no idea what was wrong with her or how to fix it. Especially since he couldn't even get into her house.

Even still, he _needed_ to be near her. To help out, to do _something_ other than destroy innocent trees and patrol the scent trails of vampires that were weeks old! (Sam had Commanded him to stop killing bears, and any other _living_ predator in the area, after the seventh bear had fallen under his mindless fury.) He was slowly going crazy as days past with him still unable to _do _anything to help Isabella.

What he really wanted to do was go and light that Edward bastard on fire piece by piece. You just didn't leave a defenseless girl (ex or not) in the middle of the woods! Anger pushed through his veins like nitroglycerin just at the reminder of that night.

He had more fantasies than he could count about the slow and torturous death that would befall Dickward Cullen as Paul was forced to listen to Isabella beg and plead for _him _in her sleep only to scream herself awake. That fact the Paul was pretty much useless to help her just fueled his anger higher and higher as more days past.

Isabella hadn't returned to school since that night she had broken down in front of him and Charlie. From what he could tell, she had gone pretty much catatonic (not that she had been much better before). He hadn't left wolf form since getting yelled at by Charlie Swan and phasing in the trees behind her house.

'_Paul, you need to go home.'_

Paul made to argue with his Alpha about exactly how _far_ that was from-

'_Your Dad's about to call Chief Swan and put a missing persons report out on you.'_

Okay, that did seem like a valid reason to go home, but he could also just _call _his dad and let him know that he was alive. Going insane from being kept away from his _broken, in need of help _imprint, but alive all the same.

'_Don't make me Command you. You need to at least take a shower and eat cooked food.'_

Paul had washed in the rivers to keep clean, and just because he couldn't kill any of the _predators_ around didn't mean a few elk didn't get taken down. Raw food didn't bother the Wolf at all.

'_What if the Chief said you could come back? Would you want to see her like you are now?'_

Immediately, Paul turned his whole mind to Sam's trying to ferret out if Charlie had given him permission to return. Was he really going to get a chance? He had thought he could stop by her at school or something even if the Chief didn't let him back into the house. Unfortunately, Isabella would have to actually _leave_ the house for that to happen. Which she hadn't. It was near crushing to listen to Sam unsuccessfully talk the Chief into letting Paul see Isabella, but Paul watched them all. Hoping against all hope that Sam had finally gotten Charlie to agree. No dice. _Again._ Well, if he couldn't see or touch or talk to Isabella, at least he could listen to her from where he was now. If he went home, that sensory experience would be gone too.

'_I'll stay and watch the house for you. She'll be safe, Paul. Just go home for an hour so that _your _dad doesn't have to worry about his son.'_

With a stab of genuine regret at having worried his dad, Paul agreed. (It should be noted that he waited until Sam was in the woods outside Isabella's house before Paul even thought of moving away from the area and that he kept half his mind tuned into Sam's own mind at all times.)

* * *

Paul was rushing through a shower getting antsier by the moment when his dad got home – and decided that there was no time like the present to confront his son. Paul was kind of expecting it. He got his brash attitude from someone (it wasn't his absentee mother).

The door banged open giving Paul a view of his dad through the clear shower curtain. "Well, the prodigal son returns. I shouldn't have listened to Sam for so long. Next time, I'll just threaten with the missing persons report first if that gets you home so fast."

Paul grimaced. It was usually hard to tell if his dad was upset or not. This wasn't one of those times.

"I've been busy."

Older, darker eyes regarded him in silence for a moment. "That's it? You have been missing for a week. You've not been at school - I checked with them first. You've not been at any of your girlfriends houses either." Paul blinked at his father in shock. "You think I wanted to call all of those families and ask if my son had been at there houses?" The older man snorted.

Paul figured that was a rhetorical question. He couldn't imagine how those conversations would have gone. "Hey, has my son been sleeping at your house with your daughter for the past week? No, well, do you know who he might be sleeping with then?"

His dad took a step into the room and locked eyes with his far taller son. "Paul, I care about you. Something has happened." Paul opened his mouth, but his dad waved him off impatiently, "No, I'm not talking about you quitting lacrosse and hanging out with Sam. I'm not even talking about the two weeks where no one knew where you were, and I really _did _have to file that missing person report. I'm talking about how each of the people I called said you hadn't been around for a couple of weeks. Now this, this week of nothing but Sam saying you were fine, but not telling me where you are or what you were doing.

"Are you going to explain what is going on?"

That was the question wasn't it. Paul's face blanked because he had no explanation he could give for his second radical shift in behavior even if it was for the better, in most ways. Maybe if Isabella wasn't broken, he could have introduced her to his father with a smile. He could have explained how Isabella was the love of his life, and that he had sworn off all other girls for her. That he had spent the last week getting close to her. Learning more about her. Hanging out at her place to make the Chief feel better about him being with her.

But, Isabella wasn't well. She was hurting, and Paul's sanity was slipping because he couldn't be near her without risking gun shots let alone get close enough to help her get better. Instead, he had spent the last week of a wolf because every hour or so the anger and hatred and fear and hurt would become too much, and he would lose any hope of phasing back. But he couldn't tell his dad that truth at all. He stuffed his trembling hands under his armpits.

"Tribal secret." It was a cop-out, and they both new it.

It hurt watching the once good relationship with his father slowly become strained. It hurt to see his dad's eyes shadow with disappointment and a hint of defeat. But it hurt worse to be away from Isabella Swan, him imprint, his _life_. So he let his father back out of the tiny bathroom before shutting off the now cold water, grabbing a pair of cut offs and racing towards the woods. He phased the second he knew he was covered and raced back towards Forks leaving his father with no real answers.

* * *

Wow! This is a very antsy ending. Wah! Don't worry though. Next chapter is Charlie's p.o.v. The hurt will be getting some comfort soon.

I threw in the bit about lacrosse since Paul was likely a jock and that is why it was suspicious that he stopped hanging out with them and started hanging around Sam. Lacrosse is Native American in origin. Since this is fanfiction, we can make the jump and say that the tribal school fields a team!

There are a couple of points that I hope are new to this story, the bit about lacrosse doesn't count. One of them is the image I have for Paul's father. I'm not going to give it all away, but I hope he seems like a different Dad. From what I've seen, all the wolf's fathers were members of the council. They knew about the wolves. In this story, Paul's dad doesn't since there is no mention in cannon that he does. Usually, it's a fanfiction mom who isn't in the know. This will hopefully develop a slightly different atmosphere at home since it's a gender switch there.

I haven't decided on a name for Paul's dad. Any suggestions? I don't usually do this, but, well, some people like researching Native American names. Me? GAH! Research!

tg out


	5. In-ish his Element

AN: This chapter is coming out late this weekend. Sorry. I went to visit a former classmate who's suffering from an inoperable brain tumor. I don't really know how to describe how difficult it was to see a once lively, happy guy so unresponsive. The tumor has taken his vision and his ability to speak and eat without a feeding tube. God help him and his family, please.

Regardless, I promised myself to get this chapter out for two special reviewers. _Vampirelove41_ asked for a Charlie p.o.v. chapter, and it has taken far too long to get it to it! And _Kymmie _who broke my indecision of whether the last chapter from Paul should come before or after this chapter with Charlie. This one digs just a little deeper into your thoughts _Kymmie_. Hope it lives up to expectations, you two!

Small pre-disclaimer. I am not a psychiatrist. This is a work of fiction. Take it with a grain of salt. Thanks!

Big Disclaimer: Meh… After several theory sessions, I have come to realize I am not Stephanie Meyer. It was a sad day when I came to terms with the fact that I don't own Twilight. I guess I will just have to stick with the royalties I get from owning Harry Potter! Nooooo! I don't want to go back! Save me!

* * *

Charlie Swan was not known for his fluency in expressing emotion. He had come to terms with that pretty much as soon as the door slammed on Renee for the last time. Dwelling and moping about it really wasn't his style. Instead, he had learned to work around his 'handicap,' so to speak. As chief of police, there would always come a time when he would need to handle traumatized people. To get around his inability to do so himself, he delegated. He had hired the youngest Tasser boy despite his somewhat lacking credentials because the boy was great with the emotional side of the job. Charlie had followed his gut, and he had been right. Now ten years later, the kid had turned into a fantastic deputy.

Charlie's gruff personality was also why he had Felicia Byrrows on speed dial. They had met years ago when she had been consulting for a joint operation up in Seattle. As far as counselors went, he hadn't met anyone better. Every once in a while when he had one of _those _cases, he would call Felicia for help in the aftermath. If the victim couldn't afford help (most couldn't), Felicia would help out pro-bono or find someone she trusted to do it in her stead. There was a good reason Charlie liked her.

Needless to say, it wasn't long before Charlie added Felicia to his circle of trustworthy friends. Friends he knew he could count on if he needed them. He _hated_ admitting it, but he needed her now. He had held off getting help because he didn't want to admit even to himself that he couldn't help his daughter. He was her _father_. He was a veteran police officer; he should be able to help. Only, he couldn't, and he didn't want to give her up to Renee. So with no small amount of emotional conflict, he speed dialed someone he could trust to help.

"Felicia Byrrows," answered on the second ring with her smooth professional tone.

He took a remarkably shaky breath. "Hey, Felicia. It's Charlie Swan."

"Charlie!" Her cool voice slipped away. Charlie couldn't help but grin just a little bit at the warmth he heard. "It's good to hear from you. I had begun to think you had forgotten about me! It has been over a year since you last called. I hope you aren't calling to bale on the dinner plan you still owe me! I have waited long enough, Mr. Police Chief." Her voice teased through the phone.

Charlie huffed. He had owed her a dinner since the first pro-bono victim she had taken on so many years ago. It was a familiar tease that though welcomed couldn't take his mind off the issue at hand. "Wish I was, Felicia. Wish I was."

"Oh no." Her voice sighed before he could continue. "I should have known Charlie that Charmer wouldn't have called me. I'm talking to Chief Swan, am I not?"

Charlie didn't know quite how to answer that question, so with blunt honesty he went straight to the point. "It's my daughter."

"Your daughter? Isabella?!" He could hear the alarm growing in her voice. "Charlie, is she okay?"

He thought about his little girl curled around herself buried under piles of blankets, hardly eating, screaming herself awake at night… If it wasn't for that horrible night with that Lahote boy, he probably wouldn't have been desperate enough to call. But that night did happen, and everything got worse. He had dialed this number for a reason. He wasn't going to back out now.

"No, she's not, Felicia, and I don't know what to do." He winced a little at how lost his voice sounded. Shit.

"You listen to me, Charlie," she said in her best professional _I-mean-business_ voice. "I am headed down to Forks right now. You owe me a dinner, and I'm calling it in." He tried to protest. He just wanted a little phone advice. "No you don't, Swan! Tina! Where are you? Tina!" her voice muffled slightly. Charlie felt a bit bemused listening to her one sided talk with Tina, her long time secretary. "Cancel all my appointments for the afternoon. Don't even think about arguing with me! Let them pick a time after hours this week for me to meet with them." There was an exasperated huff. "Of course I will pay you overtime, you daft girl."

Suddenly, Felicia's voice was strong on the phone again. "Charlie, listen well, I am coming to Forks for dinner; and if you take me to that Dinner, so help me!" The Chief felt a little overwhelmed by her support and frankly stonewalled into accepting. After giving the name of a newer restaurant in town and receiving a sharp goodbye in return, the phone call ended.

Charlie blinked and looked at his cell phone. He had forgotten how, ah, strong willed Felicia could be when she was on a mission.

* * *

It wasn't often that a leggy blond with ice blue eyes and a designer business suit came to Forks. So when Felicia strode into the restaurant, she gained the rapt attention of pretty much everyone who was _anyone_ in town. The Dinner was a good place to eat, but the Silver Spoon (yes, the _Silver Spoon_) was _the_ place to see and be seen. He wasn't sure he wanted to contemplate the horrendous gossip he would bring to Forks after tonight. At least no one here knew Felicia's occupation. Charlie could handle gossip about his _new/old/illicit_ _relationship/affair_ with _that attractive woman/harlot who came from Seattle/New York/Atlanta to see him._

His daughter didn't deserve what the gossip mill would say if he told people _why_ he was meeting with Felicia. He was more than willing to take one for the team if it meant keeping the town gossip occupied elsewhere. So, he stood as Felicia walked (strutted) to his table.

"Felicia." He grinned as she gave him a quick hug.

"Charlie, I have been worrying this whole trip down. Let's get served so we can talk." She said as concerned eyes look him over.

He nodded in agreement before motioning for her to be seated. Service was fast, but their server was a teenage male so Charlie really shouldn't have been surprised. Charlie hid his amusement at the dumbstruck look the kid got when he glanced at Felicia.

Over salad and fish, he explained how his daughter had been acting since she was found in the woods. Then at Felicia's request, he started again from the moment he first saw her with Edward Cullen. He gave her as many details as he could remember from her time with the boy. When he got to that Spring Break where Bells had _left_ only to come back with her body broken, Charlie could see Felicia's concern growing.

He was exhausted and near emotionally empty when he got back up to the woods portion of the story. Thankfully, Felicia didn't ask him to go over it again and just nodded to him in a distracted way. Charlie left her to her thoughts and tried to finish up his plate. The Silver Spoon may be horribly named, but they did serve good fish.

"Charlie," Felicia began slowly to regain his attention. "The relationship between Isabella and Edward doesn't seem very healthy. I completely agree that your daughter didn't just fall out a window!" She scoffed as he nodded. He kept his continued suspicions to himself over the incident mainly because he was just so happy Bells hadn't left him like Renee. Now though, they set a disturbing backdrop for the more recent events.

"I understand that you want to keep Isabella safe, Charlie." He nodded slowly but gazed at Felicia with wary trepidation. He could sense a 'but' coming. "But," _and here it comes_, "I think you need to consider having the Paul boy come over again."

"What?" He gasped thrown completely for a loop. "That night was the last straw, Felicia, after that she went near catatonic! I can't bring him back in!"

Felicia's hands went up in a placating gesture. Her blue eyes calm but still serious. "Charlie, I think what you saw that night was at least one trigger if not more. Something that night brought back memories that she didn't know how to deal with. I don't think Paul had much to do with it, and you also mentioned that she was nearly normal for a few moments when she asked about _Paul_. That is a really good thing." She explained before continuing in a low soothing voice. "Triggers are bound to happen with recovery, but we do need to find out what they are. Do you know what it might have been to cause that moment?"

Charlie shook his head. "I have no idea. Once second she was fine, the next moment her hands are over her ears and she's- she's- well, you know." He finished lamely unable to look Felicia in the eye.

"It's okay, Charlie." Felicia's voice was soft, and Charlie hated that she needed to use that tone of voice with him. "You said she covered her ears, right." He swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded swiftly. "That sounds like an auditory trigger."

"Auditory?" He looked up. "Like sound?" Felicia nodded, her eyes concerned. Charlie sighed. "The only thing I remember was that I had the TV on. We were watching the game."

"Sports?" Felicia asked.

"Yeah, baseball." A brief memory flashed by, and Charlie felt like an idiot.

Felicia smiled grimly. "You know what the trigger was?"

"Yeah," he rubbed a hand over his face. "The Cullens took her out to play baseball somewhere. It stuck with my memory because Bells never had any interest in sports."

"Well, there you go. That sounds viable to me. Some sound from the game triggered memories of being with his family. If that Edward left her as depressed as your making her out to be, triggering unwanted memories of the good times she can't have again might cause the reaction your describing." Felicia leaned forward. Her expression was solemn. "I cannot diagnose Isabella without meeting with her, Charlie, so this advice comes from me as a friend. Let Paul come over again. Break up this cycle she is stuck in. If he brought back the girl you remember for that brief moment, it is possible he can help bring her out of her depression."

Charlie's lips pressed into a thin line. Felicia's understanding eyes held his as she reached across the table and grasped his hand. "Charlie, I know this isn't easy for you." She squeezed his hand. "But keeping everything as it is now won't help her get better. Just be careful. I don't think it would be good for Isabella to exchange one damaging relationship with another, okay?"

Charlie nodded sharply. Somehow, it made him feel better to have permission from Felicia to keep a close eye on Paul. He wanted to express just how much Felicia's help had meant to him. Her stopping everything to come down, well, it had touched him. Unfortunately, Charlie never could express emotions well. So all he could mutter was a gruff, "Thanks, Felicia."

Felicia smiled a soft, near indulgent smile leaving Charlie with the impression she knew just what he couldn't express. "My pleasure." She said before her eyes hardened and her lips pursed. She waved her finger at him in a vaguely threatening motion. "But don't you ever wait this long to call me up again! You hear me!"

Charlie blinked before he saw the mischievous twinkle buried in her eyes. He chuckled and accepted the rebuke for what it was. "Ten-four."

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers. I try to respond to everyone right before I post again. Hope you like Charlie. Felicia might return. I'm not sure how much of a central character she will be. I know lots of people are against OCs in fanfiction. I have a bad habit of letting them loose that I am trying to curb.

Please review and let me know what you think. I am still waiting on a viable name for Paul's dad… seems like everyone is like me a laaazzzzyyy lol.

Tg out.


	6. Isabella-ish

AN: Well, I really have no excuse. So I won't even try.

ATTENTION: This is a very dry run chapter. I wrote it, reread, answered reviews, paused, and reread. Please read at your own risk. I thought you might want to have a decent chapter sooner over a slightly more beta'ed version later.

Disclaimer: Not Stephanie Meyer. Not J.K. Rowling. Not Gandhi. You got the picture?

* * *

After so long of hazy, it seemed strange to be involved in something that wasn't the foggy static of her mind. Her atrophied brain struggled nearly in vain to understand what was going on around her. Though she did push to reality.

The first thing she noticed was the sound. A deep base rumble seemed to fill her ears. It seemed strange she could have ignored it before even with the daze she floated in near constantly. Maybe that was what had lured her in the first place?

Second was the heat. She remembered it vividly. Every memory she had of his body was tinged with the searing heat. It was her right arm this time. She couldn't feel his skin, but the ambient heat still reached her.

It was strange to realize that her eyes had been open the whole time. All it took was a blink and the world was in focus. Suddenly, he was clearly in her vision. All huge muscles, too tight clothes, and way too gigantic frame was sitting on the floor beside her. Which confused her for several long minutes until she remembered she only had one chair in the room. It was the rocking- it was where _he- _It. Was. Too. Small. For. _Paul. _To. Sit. In. Her body trembled for 57 inhales and exhales. Vaguely, she was happy she remained somewhat aware.

Another blink and several more breaths and _Paul _was back again. _Paul's _voice in her ears. _Paul's heat _against her right arm. Why has he sitting on the floor? Well, he was too big for her bed. Period. End of story.

He was rambling at bit, but it took so long for her to come into the present and then think through the _flashback_, she was sure she missed most of what he was saying.

"- IMS, since it's your initials, but Jared" she was pretty sure he just mumbled _"the fucker"_ (or was she still having trouble focusing?) "made this crack about it being a type of dog food." His tanned face scrunched into a truly awful looking grimace. "That threw that name right off the table, since I can't think of you in terms of _dog food_. There was enough people wanting to take a bite out of you." Did he just mumble _"god-damn leeches"?_

She blinked in complete shock. "_What?"_

His eyes snapped around to her with such focus she felt shaken by the attention. What had caused that reaction? Wasn't it strange? She was pretty sure it wasn't normal. Or did she say "what" out loud? Some long distant nudge said she had been doing that lately.

Regardless, she had his complete and utter attention now. It was surreal to watch him watch her so intently. Whatever had startled him (probably her speaking, maybe), wore off quickly. She must have said that out load…

He looked a bit sheepish after a moment of thought. Kind of like his massive hand didn't just get caught in the cookie jar, but was literally stuck inside. "Well, you know, with being new and all, lots of people want your attention." His brown eyes tilted to the side in a suspiciously shifty way. She furrowed her brows, was he lying? _"Shit." _She was noticing that he tended to mumble a lot too, usually curses. "Yeah, you know everyone wants a piece of you." He grinned, but in this very real/vivid moment, she could tell it was strained and definitely not a happy one. "Yeah." That word definitely carried the full weight of a stilted teenage boy ending an awkward conversation.

Unfortunately, she had no idea what the conversation had been about. She wondered how long it took for her to come into the _now._ Had he been talking to her vacant body for seconds, minutes, hours? Through the numbing haze, she felt emotion struggle through. _Guilt_. He shouldn't waste time with a _worthless human_ like her. But if he _did,_ the least she could do was pay attention, right? Those thoughts took a long time to process through her buzzed out mind. When she did finally come to the conclusion that she really should pay attention if only to tell him not to waste his time on her, she realized he had already started talking again. Another emotion filtered up. She recognized this one easily. _Embarrassment. _It was strange to be able to see the world so clearly, but been unable to process it in real time. _Frustration._

"-and Bells is what your dad calls you. And that's cool and all, but I really don't want to call you the same thing… I mean, well, not that it's not a cool name…," she was certain he mumbled "_all hell," _this time_, _"I suck at this."

It was during this awkward pause that she made her move to return to the present. "What are you talking about?"

He perked up substantially more this time. Maybe it was because she completed a full sentence? How long had it been since she had said a full sentence? Emotion was slowly but surely rising above the hazy haze now. This one was sharp. _Horror._ What an awful though! In fact, she didn't even know what day it was let alone how long it had been sense she last spoke a full sentence…

"Are you still with me?"

She jumped it shock as her tumbling mind jolted to a halt. She blinked to refocus (she hadn't closed her eyes again) and found him a foot from her face. His eyes seemed much lighter at the edges. Was that normal? They looked nearly green…

"Belle?"

She nodded because she was still very off balance from being forcibly pulled into the moment instead a drifting back gently like she had been and wasn't exactly sure what he had said.

He looked nervous now that she was fully in the present again. His mouth (which was very generous for such a bulky boy/man/bear) opened and closed several times before he finally spoke. "Is it okay if I call you Belle?"

She really didn't know why he would need a nickname for her. He couldn't want to spend _time_ with her in the future could he?

"Why?" She was sure she asked aloud because she truly couldn't fathom why a boy for the reservation wanted to spend any long period of time with her pathetic self.

His words came out in a rush that took her far too long to process. "Well, I really don't want to keep calling you Isabella since I sound like that man who runs the library here in Forks. He has to be 100 and still looks like he has a ruler up his as-, I mean, he looks like a tyrant. I don't want to ever think of myself as being like him. And I know you preferred _that name_ but I really don't think I should be calling you that. So I thought I could call you Belle instead. Simple, easy, unique?" She was so overwhelmed by the wordage that she nearly missed the mumbled _"and not likely to freak you out." _Nearly.

"So, is it okay?"

She really couldn't understand why he kept at it. She knew _with_ _certainty _that she was beyond messed up in the head without even scratching the surface, but he seemed very determined to stay. The shear effort he put into finding a nickname for her was astonishing. And, well, it meant something to her. She felt a little warmth heat something other than her right hand. She recognized this feeling. She was blushing.

"Okay." Because really, what else could she say?

Not surprisingly, really, Paul's grin was just as gigantic as he was.

* * *

In some ways, I'm glad it took me so long to work through this chapter. I know I wanted the focus of it to be nicknames, but I really had a tough time deciding whose point of view it would come from. I had a blast (and frankly it took llllooonnnggg time) trying to come up with nicknames that would fit Bella. And yes, I am still going to have people screw with Paul for picking what he did! Because come on, who hasn't watched that Disney movie (which I also do not own!).

Got split reviews about my guest psychiatrist. She isn't going away, but I can appreicate people's want of a pure Bella/Paul story. She will not overtake the story line, I promise!

Thanks for all the suggestions for Paul's father. I will have a very tough time deciding which to choose because each of you made a very convincing case.

Reviews that are submitted by non-members are very appreciated, but will not be answered per site rules. (The rule Nazi's are hiding everywhere waiting to strike! :O) Logged in reviews will be answered just before the next chapter is updated.

tg out


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